


Love is Complicated

by CollabHell



Category: Warcross - Marie Lu
Genre: Angst, M/M, WILDCARD SPOILERS, no emika, pre-warcross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 06:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16112309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CollabHell/pseuds/CollabHell
Summary: On the night of the Warcross Closing Ceremony, all Warcross players have a party at a night club. It's a tradition by now. Only, this year Tremaine Blackbourne was a no-show. Or was he?





	Love is Complicated

I watch his figure out of the corner of my eye. I can see him dancing by himself, bobbing slightly along to the upbeat new Frankie Dena song. It’s like he is completely oblivious to the world around him; wrapped up in his own head. It was moments like this when I missed him the most. His gaze flickers toward me sitting in the corner of the room. I wrench my gaze away and look around wildly, pretending I wasn’t looking. With a false identity wrapped around me, he can’t see who I am, but men staring at you intensely at parties are blaring warning signs. So I'm surprised when he stops dancing and walks toward me.

He sits down on the seat next to me. I risk a glance over at him and see him smiling at me. If he knew who I was, he wouldn’t be smiling that smile. God, that wonderful smile. His scent drifts over to me and memories wash over me. Nights playing Warcross, the first gentle kiss. Him dragging me downstairs to play Mario Kart, always beating me. Time spent wrapped up in his arms, exchanging teasing looks across the room. Roshan. The times when he was mine and I was his. I look him in the eye.

‘Hey. I saw you sitting over here all alone. You were looking at the dance floor with a distant look in your eyes, and I thought you might want some company,’ he says to me, looking at me like I mean the world to him. He looks at everyone like that. He truly cares. I don’t know how he does it.

‘I’m Roshan, by the way. Roshan Ahmadi. I haven’t seen you at this club before. Is this your first time?’ I rack my brain for a response. I can’t use my own name as he’d storm out of here, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I want to spend time with him as someone else. Someone who isn’t a complete mess. Someone who isn’t Tremaine Blackbourne.

‘Yeah I know who you are. You’re pretty famous. I’m Rigel Keenan. I just started working here. I’m security for the lower floor,’ I respond to his question. The software I’m using to hide my features alters my voice, deepening it and changing the accent from English to Irish. I conceal a smirk at the name. Rigel was an action hero in a little-known comic series I read in eighth grade. Roshan said he’d read it, but never got around to it. The perfect disguise.

‘Ah. What does the job entail? Do you have to stay sitting here breaking up fights all night?’

‘Mostly, yeah. I can’t leave patrol besides for bathroom breaks and fights.’ _Lies,_ a voice in my head shouts at me. _All lies._ I’m not actually employed here, I shouldn’t be doing this.

‘Well, do you think your boss would mind if you joined me for a quick dance? Just one song.’ I hesitate, then smile. I push the voice put of my mind. One dance. I can leave after. I’m not myself: I can do what I want.

‘You know what? Why not? Boss is probably busy with the bartenders. They’re always getting into trouble.’ He laughs and extends a hand. I hesitate, then reach out and take it. Roshan's grip feels so familiar to me but also so foreign from more than a year apart. He smiles, and pulls me over to the dance floor. Right at that moment the song switches, as if in a movie. This one is slower than the previous one.

Looking at me with a knowing grin, Roshan reaches toward my waist. He places my hand on his shoulder. He is taller than me, but I’m used to the difference from the practise I had when we were together. He looks at me with those dark eyes of his.

‘Had much experience with dancing?’

‘I’ve been to a few parties involving this in the past.’ He didn’t need to know that they were his parties; the ones his parents hosted.

‘You’re pretty good for someone who’s just been to a few parties. I’ve been to hundreds. All elegant and fancy. They’re really not all they’re cut out to be.’

‘I’ll have to take your word for it.’

‘Give me a console and a controller any day. Video games are way better than parties.’

‘What brings you here tonight then?’ I already know, but small talk fills time.

‘My friends, ever the happy couple, dragged me along.’ He looks over to where Hammie and Asher are chatting and laughing in the corner. 'It's a tradition anyway. Closing ceremony, you know.'

‘Do you have a special someone in your life?’ I ask him. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The voice has returned. Whispers of _why would you do that_ and _coming on too strong, don’t you think_ echo in my ear. _Run away now, before you embarrass yourself further._ I shake the thoughts out of my head, but they still linger at the back of my mind.

‘Well, there was someone. A year ago. I really liked him but turns out he was a cheating asshole. He's not here tonight. Wasn't bold enough to show his face.’ He looks at me. I look down at my feet. I know he’s talking about me, and knowing it was a lie makes it feel worse. I stopped taking pills and I’ve been recovering, but I haven’t talked to any of my old friends outside of Warcross games since leaving the Riders. I just needed this night to get away from the stress after that season. After this year's Warcross closing ceremony, containing a spectacular win from Asher's team, everyone headed down here to celebrate, so I tagged along. I kind of wish I hadn’t now.

‘Love is complicated I guess,’ I tell him. ‘If you really liked this guy, maybe you should call him. Maybe there is more to his side of the story.’

‘I don’t know. He explained it pretty clearly. I wasn’t good enough for him, so I won’t be the first to reach out.’ I look up at him, racked by guilt. It was never him that wasn’t enough for me, I was bad for him. I never thought he would care this much, that he’d actually be affected by what I did. As I look away from the distant angry expression on his face, the song draws to a close. I slip out of his grasp and start walking away.

‘Well, you got your dance. Goodbye Roshan.’ I walk toward the swinging door. I shove it open with too much force and hear it slam behind me. I signal a cab, and when I’m finally in the back seat, I drop the disguise and let the tears fall.

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably a bit messy since I wrote it in 1 hour at 9:30 pm, but I have a lot of emotions about these two, especially after Wildcard. This is the first fanfiction I've managed to get over 1000 words and I feel quite proud.
> 
> Constructive Criticism is welcome. Feel free to tell me it sucks, just explain why and tell me how I can improve.


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